Meno_ wrote:Seems like, as it should this thread is burrowing deeper on a far faster pace . Probably as it should, where the 'should' is more ties to the unconscious them the intended , more linear approximation. So something may be amiss with the quantified precept of acquiring knowledge of the kind we are talking about. And I think I can give an answer to that, it is like a fishing expedition to the neural connectors between the conscious and the unconscious.

That area of the brain is struggling right now, the grey area between them is hard pressed to resolve the issue which way, what of , where from, where to, to whom-well that's You, and more ifs and but's that come from seemingly nowhere

More paraphrasing

For me, our e-exchange is a manifestation of the emerging notion of "Collective Wisdom".

As I understand the notion ... park your ego at the door ... enter a room and engage in communication ... watch the magic happen.

In NT Biblical terms ...

When two or more are gathered in my name ... I'll be there

.

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

Yes and the collection implies a collector and for that we may need a third party.Your suggestion in a prior blog was to get other participants involved but maybe a 'collector' is a disposable concept anyway and we could set up a separate discussion about that, reminding of an infinitely. Regressive type of again: they area where we will come to inconclusive premises and / or results. We may solve this problem of collection in other ways, perhaps some e.g.some collusion or compression with the idea generated between assumptions and expectation s.

Forgive for the philosophic. Bend, trying to get out from under it. That's another concern, the type of communication used.J

So we are still laying the groundwork and it reminds me not too get overly far ahead, take it nice and slow, because filling the gaps is mostly approximations of the most likely events between one and the other propositional value.

So time is not the essence as You said, Pilgrim, as with You, and urgency is relative, that can be appraised retroactivalky, com conclusions both of us are still in pretty much in the fog about. Just like one of the first laid down observations that we can not fill up gaps progressively( Jobs) only regressively.

So I am patient and knowing You so far, so are You.

Meanwhile I still owe You a reaction to Your previous comments.

You have yet to ask for some kind of comment on the ones You made 're: Your Son, but I neither would like to put my son's relevance up as ' dirty laundry' , so my replies still adhere for the unspoken rule of tit for that. Otherwise, I am getting a lot of invigorating feedback, more than enough to continue.

Another thing left unsolved and untested is the amount and quality of resiliency.I am fairly sure of my margins thus far, but I do want to evaluate and bide by Yours, of which, at this point I am more uncertain then sure.

Still working on Your previous comments and these few paragraphs were meant to lessen and lighten the shades of grey.

Meno_ wrote:Yes and the collection implies a collector and for that we may need a third party.Your suggestion in a prior blog was to get other participants involved but maybe a 'collector' is a disposable concept anyway and we could set up a separate discussion about that, reminding of an infinitely. Regressive type of again: they area where we will come to inconclusive premises and / or results. We may solve this problem of collection in other ways, perhaps some e.g.some collusion or compression with the idea generated between assumptions and expectation s.

Forgive for the philosophic. Bend, trying to get out from under it. That's another concern, the type of communication used.J

First the thought I wanted to share before reading this post:

I feel compelled to paraphrase the Biblical quote I referenced in my previous post:

When two or more are gathered ... not in their own name ... the universe/cosmos will be there.

J ... perhaps the universe/cosmos is the collector ... at the moment our "collection" goes beyond you and me ... to the small community of passive readers ... trickling out to each of their respective social/psychic communities.

B

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

Meno_ wrote:Meanwhile I still owe You a reaction to Your previous comments.

You have yet to ask for some kind of comment on the ones You made 're: Your Son, but I neither would like to put my son's relevance up as ' dirty laundry' , so my replies still adhere for the unspoken rule of tit for that. Otherwise, I am getting a lot of invigorating feedback, more than enough to continue.

The water in the river has moved on ... there's no way to locate the water that flowed by yesterday.

Meno_ wrote:Another thing left unsolved and untested is the amount and quality of resiliency.I am fairly sure of my margins thus far, but I do want to evaluate and bide by Yours, of which, at this point I am more uncertain then sure.

We are both trying to let go of the river bank ... let the water carry us where it wills. No way of knowing when or where we will struggle to reach the security of the river bank again. Yet again ... an issue better left to our unconscious mind to manage.

B

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

A personal anecdote illustrating how I unwittingly allowed my unconscious mind to guide me. I sat on top of the elephant and made no attempt to influence it. One of the many occasions where I attempted to "let go of the river bank".

From my notes on my first long walk June - September 2000

On to my pilgrimage … my first day of walking held many surprises.I left Lourdes with no information about the 'Camino' in France. I had my 'Credential' which included a sketch of the route through Spain starting at Col Somport. I had consulted a map in Lourdes and took the road that seemed to be in the direction of Col Somport.I’m a lifetime pencil pusher, spending most of my adult life sitting on my butt. Here I am carrying a backpack weighing approximately 35 pounds up these mountains, the French Pyrenees. My first day on the road, with no previous ‘walking’ experience, no idea that I should be carrying enough to eat and drink between 'pit stops'; no idea where’s the next pit stop. After walking about 22 kilometers, I arrive at this Hamlet which fortunately for me includes a small restaurant. I’m starving and pooped, with a painful sweat rash in my crutch; the first day of this pilgrimage is not a lot of fun!The restaurant is closed! ... Now what? ... Where will I stay? Seems I’ll pay a heavy price for my arrogance, my refusal to do my homework and plan my route ahead of time. I’m looking around for some indication of what to do next, as if some answer would fall out of the sky. Notice a billboard across the street with an advertisement for a Gite (bed and breakfast) ... 4.5 kilometers away ... not in the direction I’m headed. After taking a few minutes to consider my alternatives, realizing I had none, decided to try hitch hiking to the Gite. The decision to hitch hike bothered me a bit. I’m supposed to be on a walking pilgrimage! Since the Gite was in the opposite direction of my walk figured it was justified!After several minutes of sticking my out my arm with thumb raised, Canadian body language for please give me a ride, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I didn't see the lady approaching me ... fatigue? ... Daydreaming? ... Who knows? As it turned out this lady owned the Gite announced on the billboard. Perhaps not terribly surprising, only local traffic uses this road. The big surprise would come on the drive to the Gite.While driving home she tells me her husband had just returned from his pilgrimage to Santiago Compostela about a week earlier ... he had started from their farm and walked for 38 days. Unbelievable! What’s the chance of this happening? Rather than paying a heavy price for my arrogance it seems I receive a blessing for my blind faith.

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

I have nothing like anything like Your experience, my journeys being never longer then the 23.5 marathons with my children , about say, and I am kind of guessing here, 25 years ago.

You could say that I have had a number of mystical experiences throughout my life.

Now I will interrupt this train of thought to express a feeling/thought I have, which sounds kind borderline, because at times I can't delineate my feelings from my thoughts or cam happen. Its like a recurrence of a much lower level of being , which has not yet reached the level of conscious existence . When o realize its happening then incam feel these very rudimentary thoughts come up, and I feel then my willpower looses its efficiency and things happen . Since I'm with You in its embryonic forms , and feel rather them know about Your resiliency, the mierpe of my mind can't distinguish between your bordered area and mine

Just now , coming from my daughter where I usually go to babysit my latest grandson I thought about this, and came upon the idea of allusions, or literature which ties in, and then hoping it would tie into whatever that evolving channel that is slowly developing between us.

In this way the pseudo margins can remain at a middle level , where affrontery, overindulgence , or aloofness can set in.

Now go back to a very popular book even longer since its publication , a. DH Lawrence relic, of which o cam only say, the title infers a wider content them it really is. That is what struck me them and it still does. It was titles , Sons and Lovers. So much for that And I will try to get a hold of it and pull something out of it that I think would prevent it from being a tie breaker.

We are both of is dealing with sons and fathers and that focus usually pushes our own father outside into the literally grayish background Which brings me to painting that evolved from the gold lustered middle aged focus of equal attention to both inside and out, inferring a harmony missing today at least on casual inspection .

I did learn something new that long walks bring all kinds of real life hallucinating realities and the compression of Your very long walks will certainly could could bring these about, some of which, in Your case, shows , at least to me , that these cam come about either from the inside , or the out, depending whether your sources are of behavior or action referred or, wether your travels consist like bird like existential glimpses types by sensory thought out models .

If the latter is more prevalent than the compression leads underground and the sun conscious draws in things, spirits, demons or whatever into a typificative force that pulls in these things from the outside. in an effort to neutralize this onnwe force. You are yet beyond classification to my feeling states no clear thought has yet assembled in my mind which could attempt a unified reconstruction. of lets say You at a certain age

Here I stop because You are right about the river, I am deep underwater, can hold my breath and I do, where I can grab unto something and try to leave it , where I feel I willing drown and go ashore for a bit There went that born again, invisualize a horse, and we are sitting or I. sitting on it and he is a friend and I feel comfortable drifting with it downstream, but wonder if it would be as helpful upstream.

I think one of us will need am accommodation, while we're at the river's mercy, one of is need to be swimming upstream while the other upstream so as to see the other one directly, and again referring to more unconscious material graaped by a conscious upstream effort to help the other who is merely drifting down the lazy river

Incidentally what happened to Von Rivers I wonderOr form that matter the character from Quiet flows the Don

I will have more empty spaces to fill up therefore it is learning on me that perhaps I am the one downstream bit not sure I want to permanently assume that

Last edited by Meno_ on Thu Feb 22, 2018 5:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.

You are a walking encyclopedia and your most recent walk through some of the less illumined parts of your inner labyrinth is somewhat intimidating ... for me at least.

Your comments are so rich it will take me weeks or more to grasp some of the subtleties.

First yet another anecdote that popped out in reading your post ... from my third walk ... the most difficult and dangerous by far ... of my four walks.

From my notes Ruta de la Plata summer of 2003 ... I had just completed my walk from Seville to Santiago Compostella.

I had just purchased a new pair of shoes in Santiago Compostella ... I was tired of wearing my walking boots. I tried wearing these new shoes for the first time in Segovia ... couldn't keep them on my feet ... decided to spend some time walking around barefoot. I didn't realize the significance of this ... walking around barefoot ... until several years later. I had known for several years that St John of the Cross was associated with St Teresa of Avila and the reformation of the Carmelite Order … the new order being called the Discalced Carmelites. "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Discalced_Carmelites" It would be several more years before I learned what the word 'discalced' meant. Several years after this experience ... at mass in Guelph ... the Priest explained the word during his homily ... it means 'barefoot'. I still wonder at the connection ... imagination?

Also, while wandering around a park ... in a valley in Segovia ... I felt compelled to climb up a hill and check out a cave that I had noticed. The cave was huge. I walked along inside until it became very dark, with the feeling that I was being invited to walk into the ‘darkness’ … deeper into the bowels of the cave. I lacked the courage to respond to this invitation and started to think about St John of the Cross’s book “The Dark Night of the Soul”. This book describes his soul’s journey, through darkness, to union with God. Since I had just refused to walk into the darkness of the cave I had the feeling my soul wasn’t yet ready for union with God. A bit disappointing. I have since often recalled this experience when 'walking into the unknown' ... which incidentally happens quite often. For me the 'unknown' is the equivalent of the 'dark night' in St John's book.

A couple of thoughts that jumped out at me:

Its like a recurrence of a much lower level of being , which has not yet reached the level of conscious existence .

For me, I wwould change one word ... the word "lower" to the word "higher".

Now go back to a very popular book even longer since its publication , a William Goldman relic, of which o cam only say, the title infers a wider content them it really is. That is what struck me them and it still does. It was titles , Sons and Lovers.

You often refer to some written work that when I go to get some information I stumble on something that seems so relevant. In this case two things:

1) My father ... the man I never knew. A cousin posted this picture of my dad on FB a few months back. Still a teenager I presume ... just before leaving to go overseas and join the war effort. I should add that my father lost his two closest brothers to the war effort ... he came back alone.

When I first gazed at the picture of my dad I recognized the man I never knew ... I never saw a look like the one on my father's face in the picture. Maybe you could do me a favor and tell me about my dad ... your impressions from the photo.

Bruce Z.jpg (74.74 KiB) Viewed 2756 times

2) When checking out William Goldman I found the following paragraph ... written by Goldman about himself.

Someone pointed out to me that the most sympathetic characters in my books always died miserably. I didn't consciously know I was doing that. I didn't. I mean, I didn't wake up each morning and think, today I think I'll make a really terrific guy so I can kill him. It just worked out that way. I haven't written a novel in over a decade... and someone very wise suggested that I might have stopped writing novels because my rage was gone. It's possible. All this doesn't mean a helluva lot, except probably there is a reason I was the guy who gave Babe over to Szell in the "Is it safe?" scene and that I was the guy who put Westley into The Machine. I think I have a way with pain. When I come to that kind of sequence I have a certain confidence that I can make it play. Because I come from such a dark corner.

The highlighted text reminds me of my reaction to the first occurrence of your word "compression" . I haven't mentioned it yet but my thinking eventually went to "decompression chamber" . I started to think of my walks as my personal "decompression chamber" . I see Goldman refering to his writings as his personal "decompression chamber" .

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

Good morning Pilgrim. Just woke up from my slumber, and the first thing that struck me how very ambitious the mind is. I will spend most of the morning in the small cafe that we have our breakfast to devote more time to writing, because I have a fear of a growing suspicion that my work really I'd a lazy man's way to swim down river. The thought of comparing Buddha and Parmenedes/Heraclitus came to me that I would like to expand upon for Heraclitus the river was a subjective deconstruction where his moorings were undetermined and relative only to his perceptions as for Buddha it was tied or moored between two sides at the same location, in effect of transporting passengers who probably traveled the river in all its length.For Buddha, it was a trancendenta experience.

But later on this

As for Your father, I will study the face and presumably Your mom who is pictured with him and attempt to describe my impressions.

But that, after breakfast.

The overabundance of symbolism has a reason: it is the nearly absolute opening of the doors of perception, as Huxley refers to it, and James Joyce is capable to pull it off.It is reinforced by various schools of thought, but mostly by aetistox devices which unhapmered, have successfully overcome the resistance through indirect channels , since the first I believe, work had opened the way. Marcel Duchamp's Nude descending the Stairs was such a milestone from which many others followed

This breaking up of the visual field waa actually a forerunner and anesthesia to those very disturbed individuals who felt that to let.go of the glorious illuminated texts of prerealism, was almost a sin.

My break time as I have to scroll back and look at Your father and the lady with him, who I am presuming to be Your mother.

He appears young , very hopeful and full of life , who wouldn't be with a gorgeous doll like the gal beside him.Maybe its bedore he went to join the WW 1 effort, I would be intrigued to see a picture of him after he came back.Like good old Minnesota from whence Yours truly has gone west after mom got very sick of smoking herself to death gaining maybe 10 more years of like and if I get my act together where I can send picture along. Including my own dad and of course old grand dad, since this regression goes way down the line , confusedly exposing the paradoxically ambiguous dilemma , as to what block the chip is supposed be off from.

Nevertheless , that reduction is prophetically held by its own limit, At most only three generations at most..

Since one picture is worth much more than all the genealogical volumes one can keep his hand on, at the moment I'm pressed to go there verbatim, until I figure out, instead of dwelling in 2 how to get it across paralleling constantly any precept i've notion of it coming across /the river\.

So that's my next big project .My friend of my opening character of whom I will hope to say more , somewhat less them volumes, I may see soon and have some talking with if I find him so inclined , but it is really difficult to talk to him nowedays.

To give You an example, I saw him a few days after that , and all I could get out of him was how thrilled he was to cut down on drink because he found a way to reach heavenly highs by building a foundation with whisky and ginger ale to good grade marijuana. Nonreal problems with the shakes and hangovers nor finding himself in unfamiliar situations morning after

From here downstream , unconventionality . Now I'm searching for the song that phrase enimates from.

a perfect synopsis of the individual ... a tribute to your depth of perception.

sad that your friend hasn't stumbled on an appropriate "decompression chamber" ... a necessary prerequisite to exploit the merit of his time spent in Hell.

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

I'm reminded of the story of Helen Keller ... her time in Hell may have been the reservoir she drew on to construct her impressive contribution to the human family.

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

What is the contribution I'm being call on to make to the human family?

To whom much is given ... much is expected.

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

A few authors come to mind Thomas Mann is on the top of my list as far a complexity and misunderstanding goes. In Jacob and His Brothers one anecdote/scene comes to mind , the first volume relates his struggle with learning 1,2,3, the mechanics of it. In Magic Mountain he notes am old countess, who, when entering the dining room, always sits facing away from others. Jerzy Kozonski says to his barber upon the later asking him why he didn't look into the mirror to see himself, answers 'Because I know only too well, what I look like.

So much for boundaries drawn around self images. But literature abounds abounds with images of all sorts.

You know, Pilgrim, You too, have given me openings , and another idea occurred to me, in our literate conversations , we have to evaluate each other, it goes on, inn the river , weather at what times do we go on as did we don't understand, that at times I am Your father and at other times You are mine. This is important because it has to do with a growing richness of understanding the precept as it correlates with my impression about Your son, and mine in another sense. You see , all this is really quite complex and that was one of Your initial entrances to this forum

Another thing I am working on is the object of both how our vision of our sons develop a signal where red flags come up, and where do these cause us to signal one another on a different level, lets say, 'i am not about to throw caution to the wind, in spite of declarations otherwise made. These declarations are overt , and may come later in the day we would care to admit, because the modality of such correspondence veers more to the object than the objective of it

Dostoevsky, in his underground messages made overt , consciously, delicately moored to the store's bank, did not care about thinking of such things as the immediacy of internet communication, and that is a factor to consider.

So I part with these passing thoughts, hoping You are well, until next time

Oh, I almost forgot, I've been trying to get hold of my good friend Frank, bit he has made himself invisible, does not answer his phone or return calls , but he does this periodically on occasion, so no real worries here.

Delightful reading ... my conscious ... or unconscious mind ... is shouting at me ... ultreya ... don't let yourself get snagged on anythang ... big or small. Clarity will reveal itself at the appointed time. I intend to reread this thread again and again.

Some thoughts triggered by your comments and some thoughts that popped into my head waiting for your post ... in no particular order.

You know, Pilgrim, You too, have given me openings , and another idea occurred to me

Read these words a few minutes after reading your post ... they seem to echo your thought:

Part I

In his rather provocative, though always interesting, autobiography, Angela’s Ashes, Frank McCourt tells of a confession he once made as a young boy in Limerick, Ireland. His mother had just given birth and their in-laws from the North had sent five pounds to buy milk for the new baby. But his father, an alcoholic, had taken the money and was drinking it up in the pubs. His mother had sent him, a young boy, to find his dad and bring him home. But young Frankie can’t find his father. What he finds instead is a drunken sailor in a pub, asleep, with a largely untouched plate of fish and chips in front of him.

Ravenously hungry, he takes the fish and chips outside and eats them. Then, feeling guilty for stealing, he decides he had better go to confession. It’s Saturday afternoon and he goes to the Dominican church and confesses to a priest that he stole fish and chips from a drunken man. The priest asks him why he did this and Frankie answers that he was hungry, that there is not a scrap of food in their house, and that his mother is raging by the fire because his father is drinking away the money meant to buy milk for the new baby. The priest hearing all this suddenly becomes quiet. Instead of scolding Frankie and giving him a penance, he does something else [McCourt’s words]:

“I wonder if the priest is asleep because he’s very quiet til he says, My child, I sit here, I hear the sins of the poor, I assign the penance. I bestow the absolution. I should be on my knees washing their feet. … Go. Pray for me. He blesses me in Latin, talks to himself in English and I wonder what I did to him.”

Part II

We should be on our knees washing each others’ feet

Part III

what it invites us to do is to replace distrust with hospitality, pride with humility, and self-interest with self-effacement so as to reverse the world’s order of things – wherein the rich get served by the poor and where the first priority is always to keep one’s pride intact and one’s self-interest protected

The efficacy of communication vehicles have always been a stumbling block in the history of human evolution ... no more so ... the pace of human evolution is accelerating log-arithmetically ... internet being the enabler ... and there's no slowing it down.

Individuation ... a complex notion ... compels us to stop leaning on and stop leaning against ... who is capable of such an Olympian feat?

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

Meno_ wrote:Oh, I almost forgot, I've been trying to get hold of my good friend Frank, bit he has made himself invisible, does not answer his phone or return calls , but he does this periodically on occasion, so no real worries here.

My good friend God behaves the same way.

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

Meno_ wrote:Oh, I almost forgot, I've been trying to get hold of my good friend Frank, bit he has made himself invisible, does not answer his phone or return calls , but he does this periodically on occasion, so no real worries here.

My good friend God behaves the same way.

At first I thought, a comma was missing between friend and God, then I realized there need not be. , there is no difference.

It's so strangely iconic to hear these words as if my dear father , resurrected and spoke through Your mouth.

And, could be.

According to Webster, language is not really iconic, generally.A very strangely anti positive drift down the river.

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2) What does "Google Bot" is online mean? An extension to our audience?

3) Your father, my father, Your son, my son?

4) Others?

Begs another question ...

To what extent does our audience influence the words appearing on the screen? ... Freudian Slip

Paraphrasing the word "iconic" ... social constructs and their attendant proprieties (SCAP)

SCAP was on stage in my conscious mind a lot since your post yesterday. Seems to me SCAP has a significant influence on our thoughts and as a consequence on the words appearing on the screen.

For example the words ... "my son" ... infers ...

1) ownership ... possession

2) responsibility/accountability

3) connection ... bond

All of the above are consequences of SCAP ... the "torrent of human custom"

Begs the question:

Have I failed SCAP? ... or ... has SCAP failed me?

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

2) What does "Google Bot" is online mean? An extension to our audience?

3) Your father, my father, Your son, my son?

4) Others?

Begs another question ...

To what extent does our audience influence the words appearing on the screen? ... Freudian Slip

Paraphrasing the word "iconic" ... social constructs and their attendant proprieties (SCAP)

SCAP was on stage in my conscious mind a lot since your post yesterday. Seems to me SCAP has a significant influence on our thoughts and as a consequence on the words appearing on the screen.

For example the words ... "my son" ... infers ...

1) ownership ... possession

2) responsibility/accountability

3) connection ... bond

All of the above are consequences of SCAP ... the "torrent of human custom"

Begs the question:

Have I failed SCAP? ... or ... has SCAP failed me?

By what standard standards it failed? Yours? Your sons? Others?

Or some kind of consensus of the above by comparing the above's most prevelant descriptions? Most everyone gets bogged down here, because they can not get behind it., or past it. Is lime to be more specific here but boinderies are appearntly sustain some kind of blockage , here, I am sridtonf downstream and You too at this time we are seeing some out jogging branch unto which we both could grab a hold , but they may be too brittle and breakable at this point.

It's possible there were no 'failures' ... we make judgements based on incomplete information using SCAP as the metric.

Most everyone gets bogged down here, because they can not get behind it., or past it.

Yeah! ... and that's the beauty of this thread ... we're both trying hard not to get bogged down ... let's sail on by.

... we are seeing some out jogging branch unto which we both could grab a hold , but they may be too brittle and breakable at this point.

... or strong enough to get snagged on.

Moving on ...

I'm reminded of a graphic I shared a few monnths ago. The graphic was designed by a young Chinese woman who was studying visual communications at the time. She volunteered to design a graphic to be used as a logo for our new group "Grail Quest Geeks". The group got off to a great start and just as quickly 'died' ... seems the individuals involved were afraid to discover the 'grail' ... ???

The graphic spoke to me today ... something new ... something I never saw before despite the fact that I have reflected on it ... and chatted with others about it .... several times.

Group Logo.jpg (48.05 KiB) Viewed 2499 times

Previous thoughts about the potential 'message' in the graphic:

1) The yin yang symbol in the center represents the universe/cosmos. Concsiousness emanates from this source.

2) The rings around the center represent varying degrees of consciousness ... sentient beings close to the center, other life forms further from the center.

The dominant color of the graphic ... black ... gazing on the color today triggers the thought ... we live in the shadow(s) of reality.

Perhaps recognized almost three millennia ago.

the shroud that is cast over all peoples ... the sheet that is spread over all nations

"Do not be influenced by the importance of the writer, and whether his learning be great or small; but let the love of pure truth draw you to read. Do not inquire, “Who said this?” but pay attention to what is said”

Woke up. With a bad acidnreflex. Had dinner in wine country ansamdwotxj washed down with a bottle of chocolate infused wine .

And woke up its midnight. And saw the posted yong yang posted last night by you.

And thought ofntje rings and the center all concentric black and thought about Arminius for no reason. And the time LSD almost got me.

Saw a Mandala knowing a female goddess was on the center at the end of a long tunnel, bit them it was not a tunnel. but bubbles all bursting and being born and of I tried to look into the bubbles they were all each one of them tony concurrent scenes of reality and they jadnlittle sub spheres inside inside all with other little scenes looking little. but did not venture to enter for fear of the goddess in the very center and I knew I can't go there and cam not venture to cast a sight there not was forbidden.